


Rough Reminder

by Cheshagirl



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Making Love, Other, Rough Sex, Smut, anyways i love how this came out, as rough as it should be i guess but, im a sucker for soft sex, its not really, reader isnt given pronouns, unintentional bruises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24443542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshagirl/pseuds/Cheshagirl
Summary: Desperate to hold you close, and remind himself you're alive, Aragorn let's himself go.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 91





	Rough Reminder

**Author's Note:**

> Anon requested a rough smut/love making fic with aragorn/reader. I'm not much of a rough smut author, let alone smut but I gave it my best shot. Reader is never given pronouns so this can potentially be read as m/m or f/m whatever you want
> 
> if you liked this please leave a comment or kudos! <3

The battle had been won, though not without loss and heartbreak. With mourning and death encircling the city and its people, words were not enough to soothe Aragorn’s aching. He needed your touch and warmth to prove you were with him still, not a figment of his imagination, not laying amongst the soldiers who had not been so lucky. He fell into your arms and bed, desperate to be in your presence. Attempts to assuage your lover left both of you breathless and flushed, aching to be closer than what your bodies would allow.

You let out a soft whine as his lips brush over your clavicle, pausing every few inches to press a kiss against your skin. The air is thick with heat and an ache that has yet to be fulfilled. It blankets you both as Aragorn ruts into you, gasping against your skin. Sweet whispers of your love are interrupted every so often by a moan, back arching into your lover. The gods had blessed him with a long life, a handsome face, and stamina you found yourself struggling to keep up with. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” Aragorn huffs against your neck, placing a soft kiss to your skin. Deft fingers calloused from years of handling a sword grip tightly against your hips. Purple will blossom in the places he gripped so desperately in the morning, but you can’t find it in you to care as you roll your hips into his. In the morning he will flinch from your gaze and his heart will clench with guilt at every mark he leaves on your skin, but you will hold him in your hands and tell him it’s alright. For now, every grip that’s too tight fills you with pleasure. 

“Let go, beloved,” Your voice is breathless, your hands pull his raven hair. “I am here for you.”

A noise akin to a growl rumbles from his chest. Aragorn finds your pulse, tongue laving over it before he bites down, sure to leave his claim on you for the morning. Hips snap quickly, without mercy, against yours. The sheets stretch against your grip, and sweat slips down your body. Every time Aragorn moves in you sparks up your spine and you swear stars dance in your vision. Aragorn lets one of his hands wander to your chest, rolling and pinching your nipple.

“So beautiful,” He grunts, cock stretching you in a delicious way. “You take me so well, so warm around me.”

Dark beard rubs against your neck and chest when his lips travel across you in a frantic dance. A coil tightens in your abdomen, you gasp out in a desperate attempt to warn him of your inevitable climax but your words are broken by a whimper. With the way, his pace falters against you and his grip freezes against you, you know he’s close too. 

“Aragorn!” You wail, back bowing and body shuddering when the coil finally snaps. Like a great ocean, it crashes over your body, overwhelming and suffocating with every pulse that travels through you. Through your delirium you feel Aragorn fill you, you hear him cry out your name like a prayer. 

“Rest,” You sigh against Aragorn’s cheek, allowing his weight to remain on top of you. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, but you know he’s awake with the gentle sweep of his thumb across your hip. 

“Dearest,” His voice drops low, a rough tone that you feel in your chest. “Will you stay with me till morning?”

You trail your fingers across his cheek, allowing him to roll to your side and pull you against him.

“I will stay with you for as long as you need, Aragorn.”


End file.
